Behind the Forbidden Door
by RainsPhantom
Summary: Erik never allowed Christine to open that one door. He warned her about curiosity, so what will happen when she decides to see what is behind the door? First oneshot! M for a reason!


_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: I decided to take a reprieve from Midnight Mystery to write this short one shot. This follows what occurred after Christine turned the scorpion key. I have more stories up my sleeve.**

**Summary: Erik never allowed Christine to see what was behind the door. She did not know it was the door to the torture chamber. He warned her about curiosity, so what will happen when she decides to see what is behind the door? **

**This is rated M for a reason; trust me, it is very graphic!**

**Be warned: this is very morbid. Please R&R! **

**_Behind the Forbidden Door_**

Christine did not know how it all happened. Her mind was suffering in a myriad of emotions, which caused her to be unable to distinguish night from day, love from hate, and fear from anger. Erik had made her choose between the scorpion key and the grasshopper key that decided not only their fates but also the fates of everyone above ground.

Of course she turned the scorpion key to save Raoul's life. She would have done anything to protect the man she adored. As much as she wanted to hate Erik, she knew that she did not. How could she hate a man who had lost his mind over love?

Somehow, Erik had procured a priest who had married them in a small ceremony without the use of a witness. They still presided in his underground home because Erik was in search of a new home that was aboveground for the two.

Even though that eventful night occurred at least three days prior, Christine was still in shock. What happened to the Persian man and Raoul? Erik had said that the two were as well as a man could be, but what did that even mean?

Sighing heavily, Christine came back to reality. She presently resided in Erik's underground living room. Sitting back on the black divan, she stared directly at the "forbidden" door. During the entire time that she and Erik had shared times in his dark abode, he had always reminded her that she was allowed in every room except the room with the brass door.

He so often forbade her from going near the door that Christine started to call it the "forbidden" door.

She sat, chewing her nails (a bad habit she received from Meg), while her eyes darted back and forth from the wall to the brass door in anxious worry. Erik had left her to read some of his books whilst he slaved away on his masterpiece.

Christine knew better than to disturb him while he worked. He would be preoccupied for at least a week. He only came out once for some water, and he had just made his daily trip for something to drink.

So basically, she would be alone to amuse herself for the next twelve hours. Of course all of the events: Erik working, twelve long hours, and the brass door all worked against her better judgment.

Christine knew where he kept the door key; she had seen him place the key to the door behind a stone on the fireplace mantle. Her eyes now gazed at the stone as she debated.

Surely a quick look would not hurt anything. Erik would never have to know what she did. All she had to do was make sure she returned the key to its natural position and pick up a book before Erik came out.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she stood up and walked over to the fireplace. Hesitating for a moment, she lifted the stone on the mantle and immediately saw the key. As childish as it may have looked, she glanced from side to side in paranoia.

Picking up the key in her small hand, she wrapped her fingers tightly around it. She smoothed the wrinkles in her beige colored dress. She paused when Erik stopped playing the haunting melodies on the pipe organ. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest in trepidation, but she exhaled in relief when the vast haunting melodies began again.

Stepping silently to the brass door, she took tentative steps. Her heart pounded in anticipation of what would lay behind the door. Sticking the key into the keyhole, she took a deep breath while her eyes closed before she turned it to the side. The click of the lock somehow set her heart to pound against her chest again.

For a brief moment, she felt like she was possibly making a mistake and should stop; but she soon pushed down the feeling and pushed the door slightly ajar.

The light partially infiltrated the dark room which added to her already peaked curiosity. She pushed the door slowly as it squeaked a small amount. She winced and then opened her eyes when the door was fully open.

There was something in the room but she still could not see amongst the darkness. However, a very putrid and odious smell reached her nostrils. Her hand quickly went to cover her mouth and nose, but she still could somewhat smell it.

Her other hand tapped the wall in search for a light but to no avail. She went back into the living room, content that Erik was still playing away over his work. Going over to the dining room closet and retrieved a lantern.

Once she made sure there was enough oil to light the room, she went back to the opened door. Stepping cautiously inside the room, she set the lantern on the ground in the middle of the floor.

She stooped down and worked with the lantern to shine more light until the whole room lit up. She faced the door as she stood back up. Once she turned around, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as her mouth opened wide to emit screams that never came out. They were as silent as the room.

"Oh my God!"

She stumbled backwards trying to tear her eyes from the horrific sight but failing miserably. Falling on her backside, her protruding eyes were unable to tear themselves away from the opposite wall.

Her breaths came out in rapid, raspy hisses as she tried to steel her nerves but to no avail. A terrified glaze slowly covered her blue irises while her brain desperately tried to forget the images she was seeing.

On the opposite wall were four nude bodies hung by their hands with nails as if representing Jesus Christ on the cross. They were spread side to side from left to right. Rats scurried away from the light as best they could before giving up and returning to their meal.

Christine raised her eyes to the faces of the four men. She could not distinguish their identities, for their faces were burned beyond recognition until their skulls were seen with rotting flesh hanging off some areas. Their hands were green and fingers eaten off by flies.

Christine began to hyperventilate as she lowered her eyes from their heads to their torsos. On their chests were signs of torture and abuse, indicated by a series of scars and open gash wounds. There was dried blood all over their chests and abdomens.

An atrocious sight that caused Christine to gag was that the four men's abdomens were sliced open and their decomposing grey intestines had spilled out. She could smell the bodies literally rotting and hear the rats and flies eating the dead men.

The intestines themselves were still dripping with blackish blood that had congealed over the time that the men had been hung and died. Christine wanted to look away but could not.

Their legs had giant holes here and there due to the rats that had feasted upon the bluish flesh. None of the men had their feet or toes. Yet, the massacre did not end at their feet.

To her horror, Christine saw neat piles below each man that appeared to be a collection of anatomical parts of each victim. Each man's hair, fingers, ears, tongues, and eyeballs were piled in an efficient manner.

Christine's labored breathing did nothing to help her mental state. She was appalled, and her thoughts were as scattered as the stars in the night sky. She tried to reach for the lantern when she realized it.

The organ had stopped playing music, and the only thought Christine had was, 'Oh no, Erik is…'

An evilly haunting voice resounded the torture room and surrounded Christine, who sat still in shock and shaking in fear.

"Ah, I see that you have discovered my little secret…Well, I suppose it is time."

Christine slowly stood up and faced her husband, still trembling in trepidation. Holding out her hands to the side to show she had no weapon, she dared to speak,

"Erik, what have you done?"

Two glowing gold eyes regarded her momentarily before he stepped into the lantern's circle of light. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a blood red dress shirt. His black mask and glowing eyes gave him a menacing supernatural aura.

His voice was cold and nonchalant as if he had done nothing wrong or out of the ordinary.

"I simply acted in my wife's best interests. Can you really fault me for trying to protect you?"

"You killed these men! I do not even know who they are! I don't understand."

His chilling voice raised the hairs on the back of her neck as he began to circle her as if she was his prey.

"What is it that you do not understand? Is it the reason I killed these men? Is it because you care about me? Alas, I know that you do not love me, even though I have always kept my word. Damn you and your bloody curiosity, Christine! Did I not warn you to never EVER try to open the door!"

His voice began to scream towards the end as Christine shrunk back, hyperventilating again. She began to plead for her life as he started to laugh maniacally. Christine knocked the lantern over as she stumbled backwards as Erik approached her cautiously. He stood inches from her face and leaned towards her ear and whispered viciously.

"It seems, Mrs. Desslar, that I must punish you for your irresponsible actions. If only you had not acted upon your curiosity. I curse women and their incessant curiosity; consequently, I suppose I must make an example out of you."

"Please, Erik, don't do this. Please do not kill me."

His gold eyes widened in surprise before they slanted in anger before he tossed his head back and let out a deafening and thunderous cackle that seemed to shake the floor beneath their feet.

All of the sudden, he grabbed her arms and jerked her forward as they edged closer to the corpses. Christine tried to struggle, but Erik easily held her back. She turned her head into Erik's black clad shoulder, but his hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look up.

With a long, pale, and skeletal index finger, Erik pointed to the corpse on the far left and jeered, "Do you recognize this man? No? Well, maybe you will recognize him if I were to let you see his eyes."

Christine shook her head, whimpering while tears cascaded down her cheeks as Erik forced her to hold the rotting and pest-infested anatomical parts. She quickly dropped the eyes to the floor, as they rolled away with rats scurrying after them.

Erik darkly chuckled.

"Still, you do not know this man. Well, I suppose I will have to answer my own riddles. This man is Joseph Buquet, the stagehand."

He dragged her to the right to face the second man, forebodingly chortling along the way at various intervals.

"Erik, please, I can't take anymore!"

"Do you remember the night when you turned the scorpion key? Yes? Do you remember when the lake siren sounded off, and I came back wet? Well, Philippe de Chagny set off the alarm (probably to try to save his brother and you), so I had to do something before he ruined our night. Am I right? Say hello to our local patron to the theater!"

Christine screamed as her nerves suddenly became shot. Her voice was hoarse and raw, but Erik continued to drag her to the third victim.

"This is my dear old friend, Daroga Nadir Khan. He was a good policeman but in the end, it was relatively unimportant. He was sincere in his devotion, but I always get what I want and he simply just got in the way. Now, shall we go on to the last man? He is, perhaps, of the greatest importance of all the men present."

Christine had tears pouring down her face as she pleaded with Erik to stop the madness.

"What madness are you speaking of? There is no madness here, only reality!"

He momentarily ambled over to a corner of the room. Christine would have run if she had an idea where to go, but he quickly came back holding something. He stopped short of the light.

"Perhaps, you can solve the riddle of this man's identity with this major hint. Hold out your hands. I will not say this again: hold out your hands! Good. Here."

Christine fingered the cloth that appeared tattered. Lifting it into the light, she looked and saw that the red object was a ragged red scarf. Throwing it down, she stumbled on the floor and fell down. Closing her eyes as tears squeezed out, she screamed and yelled and cursed Erik all at once.

She hesitantly looked at the fourth body and saw what had become of her childhood friend and former lover. Oh, poor Raoul!

While the hysterical Christine screamed and cursed, Erik retrieved a chair. When he attempted to pick her up, Christine fought and hit him as hard as she could, but her blows were relatively ineffectual.

He forced her to sit down in the chair that sat directly in front of the bodies in the middle of the room. Once she was situated, he tied her arms behind the chair delicately with a rope.

Then, he stooped in front of her and tied her feet together. She struggled, but ceased when she saw the futility. Erik merely laughed at her attempts to free herself. Once she was settled, he kissed her tearful and sweaty face before hissing spitefully.

"This will be your punishment, my love. You will have to be alone in the dark with them. At least they will keep you company, but you may have to start and end all conversations. On any note, I will return when I feel that you have learned your lesson."

Despite her whimpers and tears, Erik stood and went around her until her back was the only thing visible to him. He closed the door slowly as Christine gradually witnessed her only light diminish until she was left alone in darkness.

She should have never had gone to see what was behind the forbidden door, and now it was too late…

**---The End---**

**Author's Note: I wanted to test out my skill as a horror/scary writing style. I hope this somewhat frightened and/or creeped you out. Let me know what you thought of it. I hope to do more of these one shots/short stories…Maybe not all as creepy as this one.**

© 2007


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